Tragedies of the Sake King
by annyenil
Summary: A little prequel to the Fall of the Sake King. Just what had Shunsui been up to when he decided to mess with that arrogant Kuchiki Byakuya?
1. Epilogue

**Author's Note: **Byakuya is very sexy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach

**Tragedies of the Sake King**

By annyenil

"What are you doing, Kyouraku taichou?" A puzzled young Nanao asked, her eyes sparkling with suspicious. Her taichou had never been up to anything good, but this seemed more severe than it had ever been. She had been in the Division long enough serving the taichou to know that Kyouraku Shunsui, when not musing the world or getting drunk out there with Matsumoto Rangiku, was _definitely_ messing with other people's love life.

Nanao had said the last sentence out loud by accident. Shunsui grinned mischievously and patted her head. "See, Nanao-chan. That's why I waited so long for you to grow up. Once you are ready, you will be my fukutaichou." Somehow, the slightly libidinous eyes of Shunsui told Nanao that he wasn't entirely serious, but nevertheless she smacked him with a heavy volume and stomped away.

"Hold on, hold on." Gently, his big burly arm drew her back in and his eyes were full of furtive motives. "Take a look at this! I found this in the Research Bureau when Mayuri was napping with Nemu." "What's that, taichou?"

"It's a dimension connecting device that allows people in Rukongai to send letters and parcels over to a port here in Sereitei." Shunsui's eyes twinkled with so much boyish malice that Nanao shuddered at the unfortunate fate of his next victim. Actually, she had a very good idea of whom his next victim was, but it was better not to mention it in case he involved even more people and created a bigger mess that _she _would have to clean up after.

Aside from Ukitake, there weren't many plenty that Shunsui messed with on a regular basis. For starters, Yoruichi had left, so he couldn't exactly toy around of that boy Urahara and her. Besides, she had never let him off easy and he always had to dodge extra hard. That left very few people to provoke. Rangiku needed no help with her love life, and was in fact Shunsui's best sidekick whenever he played romance pundit. Then there was strange Tousen, who wasn't interested in women, Ichimaru Gin, who gave him the creeps, and Aizen, who did too well with women that it nearly rivaled him. Unforgivable.

Which meant that there was definitely a specific reason why Shunsui had decided to take a walk that was completely out of his way to pass by the Sixth Division Office.

"Kyouraku taichou, are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Of course there isn't a problem. Don't you want to see what I am doing with it?"

"Will I be charged with accomplicity?"

"Not until you become my lovely fukutaichou."

"…… but Kyouraku taichou, Kuchiki taichou will be incensed."

"Isn't that fun?"

This time, Nanao quickly turned her back and fled. She was not interested in what Shunsui was up to, especially when it involved the wrath of that frighteningly callous and arrogant Kuchiki Byakuya, Head of the noble Kuchiki clan and the recently promoted Taichou of the Sixth Division. Shunsui sighed and shrugged. Nanao would have to miss out on the fun. _But it's OK. I will just tell her at her bedside when she goes to sleep tonight……hehe……_

"Kyouraku taichou! I am here with the signs you've told me to paint!" Matsumoto Rangiku rushed over, her pink neck scarf fluttering like a beautiful butterfly in the breeze. Promptly, she fished out the wooden signs and nails that Shunsui had told her to prepare for their latest prank. Without wasting anytime, the two quickly set up a little mailbox outside the Sixth Division. There had never been anything more suspicious.

"Do you have the spell, Rangiku-san?"

"Yes, it's right here. Bakudou Fifty Two: Root to Earth!" With a quick shot, the mailbox had been sealed to the earth, irremovable by any other hand than her own. She had sworn with Shunsui never to do so. It was fool proof.

"Kyouraku taichou, Matsumoto fukutaichou. May I please inquire your aberrant presence at my Division?"

_Uh-oh._ Kuchiki Byakuya. Instinctively, Shunsui grabbed Mastumoto and shunpo-ed away as far as he could carry her as quickly as possible, leaving behind an indifferent Kuchiki Byakuya, whose austere presence wavered a little as he glanced at the mail box that had been set up. He frowned at what seemed to be a decorative lipstick print at the side of the sign, which read words he could not register:

_Love Letters from Rukongai: _The Bya-Kun Fan Club Official Mailbox!


	2. Love Psychedelico

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach

**Tragedies of the Sake King**

By annyenil

Abarai Renji woke up with at start. It had been the most bizarre dream. There had been lots of sexy women with large busts and pearly smooth skin and amber wavy hair. (i.e., lots of Matsumoto Rangikus surrounding him) And there had been the most delightful sake that would tingle the tip of his tongue in such a dreamy manner that he wished he would never have to wake up. Sadly, such was not the case as a wave of flittering blustery surged into the room. The strange drone this early in the morning gave him no choice but to get up and investigate its cause.

He had not expect the drowsy morning laden with his own indolence would be this refreshing as a wave of dew studded breeze met his cheeks, blowing his flaming red hair into his eyes. He gently pushed it out of his eyes, feeling rather idyllic at the thought of actually _enjoying_ the morning air. _How genteel of me._ He thought. Such serenity was one never meant to be broken. Which meant that it would, more likely than not, be. Renji rubbed his eyes several times to confirm that the white beach before him was not a silly chimera resulting from excessive fantasizing of becoming the Sixth Division taichou. A Hawaiian paradise!

Taking another deep breath of the acutely cold morning air, Renji dived into the white, glistening pile. And gasped in shock. His entire Division, the entire Division Office Entrance had been mobbed and drowned in nothing but letters. There were pink, purple, flowery envelopes of the roughest sallow kind to the most expensively handmade kind, of the strangest shapes and sizes there ever had been, streaming continuously like a stream of oasis in the middle of the cold Sereitei winter. He shivered a little and stooped down and scooped up a few letters. And snorted in a most insolent manner unbefitting for any self-respectable taichou.

But in a facetious situation like the one Renji was in, even Ukitake Jyuushirou in his most somber state would have burst out howling in wild laughter. He dived into the pool of letters clogging up the entrance of his Division, making such a fracas in the wee-hours of the tranquil morning that several of his subordinates had woken up and joined in the fun, playing around like as though snow had befallen Sereitei. It had been like a playground with gleeful children frolicking about exuding nothing but the most innocuous joy.

"Hey, look at this one! Dear Bya-bya!" Endless laughter followed.

"This is better. 'Make me your wife! Signed, Kuchiki Haruko'. This is hilarious!" More laughter followed, that seemed to have lit up the usually austere and solemn cloud that shrouded over the Sixth Division. The illuminated Division was having the best time anybody had ever had, wading through the pool of many, many, many letters.

"Eeww! There is a BRA stuck in this parcel!"

"What's with the eww? You've never seen one before?"

"That's not the point!"

"Oh my god. Kuchiki taichou is gonna love this. Photos of……" A bunch of surly looking male shinigami had nosebleed onto their bulging robes.

"Roses are red, violets are blue. You may not know me, but I still love you. That is SO boring."

"It's a classic. Now shut up and look some more."

The Sixth Division had been under so much strict regiment that they were content holding a party with letter-uncovering in the morning at six a.m. where the hell butterflies and chirpy birds were hardly even awake. It also had not occurred to anybody that it seemed none of the shinigami in the Division possessed more brains than their slightly dense fukutaichou, for it had not alarmed them even a little or insinuated a sense of guilt in them that would otherwise have told them to do what they were joyously partaking in discreetly.

Renji was neither jealous nor irritated that his taichou was so immensely popular, for despite the source of this stream had been uncovered to be some sort of letter box (having exploded into pieces of shredded wood by force) with the banner "Byakuya Fan Club" on it, he himself received quite a few proposals and kisses over letters. Fan girls were one of the most intelligent and resourceful species on earth. If everybody were as purposeful as fan girls, the world would be a lot brighter and more efficient.

Of course, that was perfectly hypothetical.

Renji had not much to spare as he grabs and tore open each of his letters eagerly. Until he opened one that puffed out a cloud of enigmatic powder that sent him into a psychedelic daze as he began to feel floating and fleetingly light. He felt as though he had been sent to heaven, literally. What was this ecstasy? The joy of love……? What a wonderful, beautiful feeling it was, to be so amorous.

"Abarai fukutaichou? Abarai fukutaichou……?" The mass of shinigami crowded over as their fukutaichou slowly collapsed to the ground in a heap, and thus instigating a noisy fracas that finally, could no longer be tolerated by the almighty Kuchiki Byakuya. Those solemn steps struck on the hearts of every single shinigami present as the lump of fear in their stomach grew colossal. A wave of reiatsu made some succumb and bow, while the rest gritted their teeth in order not to appear weak and feeble before their taichou.

"Take this trash away." Byakuya said coldly.

"H-hai, taichou." A few shinigami who were still alert enough promptly escaped from the scene while the rest of them took this opportunity to escape as well. It was never wise to be around making such a mess. One clever shinigami waved a little spell, and most of the letter were immediately decimated with a miniature tornado of a magical sprinkle.

"Hm." Byakuya snorted as he bent over to pick up the letter that Renji had been clutching. It was a little purple envelope with some powder left over in it. Byakuya dabbed a finger at the powder and sniffed it, rubbing it into the air before him. He snorted again in the most snobby manner possible, "Ai no Gengaku? Such a juvenile spell……" Perhaps he should have bestowed less clemency and merely killed Renji. It was insidious to have such a useless fukutaichou roaming around in his Division, which _must_ be of the most qualified and capable shinigami, as well as the most disciplined, in Sereitei. He could not understand why he had to stand in line with that red-haired punk/hippie trailing behind him with occasional bursts of killing intent.

Byakuya opened the letter, pouring out all the powder cautiously, and read its contents.

"Stay away from Kuchiki Byakuya. Love, Na-chan." Byakuya raised an eyebrow. All women are crazy. Such a menacing message coupled with such an adorable signing off was nothing direct and understandable to Renji. He turned away and disposed off the letter into the streets, not wanting to have anything to do with these inane women's dangerous adulations.

He headed over to the hole in his Division Entrance that was still spewing out letters and decided to seal it. "Bakudou Seventy Six, Freeze Over!"

"Hehehe." A little voice behind him giggled.

"It won't work, Bya-kushi." A devilishly grinning Kusajishi Yachiru said. "Sui-sui told me all about it already. Hehehe."

Byakuya watched with exasperated defeat as his kicked at the hole and wondered, just wondered if those lowly life forms in Rukongai were seriously considering if he would actually fall for them. They weren't even women to him. They were merely creatures.

"In that case," he turned and picked up Renji's little love bomb and headed back into his office, "it probably wouldn't hurt to mess around a little."

Even Kuchiki Byakuya needed fun sometimes.


End file.
